


Somebody to Talk To

by friendofspiderman



Series: Fictober 2020 [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Canon Compliant, Family, Gen, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Worried May Parker (Spider-Man)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendofspiderman/pseuds/friendofspiderman
Summary: Fictober Prompt #7 - "yes I did, what about it?" (remixed)---May needs a system to keep track of Peter. Karen is here to help.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Karen (AI), May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker
Series: Fictober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953223
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	Somebody to Talk To

“Peter, I can’t keep doing this.”

May sat at the kitchen breakfast nook, holding a mug of tea between her hands in an attempt to remain calm and level-headed when Peter had returned home after 3am for the third night in a row.

He skittered back and forth around the kitchen, sloppily piecing together a PB&J.

“Can’t keep doing what, exactly?”

“You know what,” May said. “When I agreed to support your Spider-Man stuff you _promised_ to get home at a responsible hour for school. You promised to text or call if you had to be out past 1am. I’m so sick of this.”

Peter talked through a giant bite of his sandwich. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. But my phone died, so I couldn’t—”

“Okay, so, you shouldn’t patrol if your phone’s dead. We’ve been over this—”

“How was I supposed to know it was gonna die? It’s not like I _planned_ for that to happen, it was still at 11% when I left—”

“You left to do some dangerous crime-fighting with your phone at _eleven percent??_ ”

“Yeah I did, so??”

“PETER.”

His shoulders slumped at her tone.

“Sorry, May. That wasn’t cool. I’m—I’m so _tired_.” He joined her at the table, munching his sandwich defeatedly.

May rubbed her temples. “I’m not trying to be unreasonable here, sweetheart, it’s just…it’s just that we need a new system,” she said with a sigh. “I _know_ you are capable, and I _know_ you’re not trying to be out so late. But you can’t put saving the world before your own sanity or mine. You just _can’t_.”

Peter didn’t respond immediately, his eyebrows furrowed as he chewed the last of his PB&J. He swallowed, then spoke with intent.

“I really am sorry, May. I don’t mean to stay out so late, and I don’t mean to forget to text you. I don’t go _looking_ for trouble after midnight when I’m making my way home, but this week stuff just kept coming up. And when I’m out there, in the middle of things, I just—I won’t leave people who need my help just to get a few extra hours of sleep. I _can’t_.”

“But you _can_ , Peter, and you _need_ to. You’re a person too, it’s not your responsibility to—”

“But it _is_ , May!” He interrupted. “If I have the ability to help but I don’t, then that’s on _me_.”

May stared at him worriedly, her heart twisting at how much he looked and sounded like Ben. He was so earnest, and so _stubborn._ She knew she couldn’t convince him to put himself first with just one talk. This wouldn’t be an overnight fix. They needed a more immediate solution.

“Can you just—just try a little harder to make it back on time? And to text or call if you can’t? For me?”

He nodded with his eyes cast downward at the table. “Yeah, May, I’ll try. I—OH!” He shot his head up, eyes bright with inspiration. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, I’m _so_ stupid. Here—" He ran to the living room where he’d discarded his mask. “Karen can help us!!”

“Karen?” May asked. “Your suit lady?”

“Yeah,” he said enthusiastically, “When I unlocked her I found out she could send and receive calls and texts, I’ll just have to ask her! But she’s super fancy, so I’m sure she can also do things without me telling her to—we can program her to do whatever you want!”

May smirked. “Can we program her to turn off your webs at 1am and send you home?”

Peter looked guilty and she melted. “Just a joke, sweetheart. You were saying?”

“Right,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “So, we just ask her to do whatever you want her to do, which is…” his words were interrupted by a huge yawn. “…which is what, again?”

“Bed.” May said decidedly. “We can figure this out tomorrow night.”

“No, I owe it to you to fix this now,” Peter protested weakly, looking more exhausted by the minute. He fumbled with the mask. “Here, I’ll put it on and ask her—hey!”

May had snatched the mask out of his hands. “Tomorrow, Peter. It’s a school night!”

“Okay, okay.” He rubbed his eyes and turned to head to his room. “But if you want to ask her yourself, just put the mask on and talk. Karen’ll walk you through whatever.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, try it.” Another yawn. “G’night, May. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied, waiting until he’d turned the corner to sink into the loveseat and stare at the mask. She gave the thought of bedtime for herself only the briefest consideration before pulling the mask onto her head.

An overwhelming array of virtual nonsense and a faint funk of teenage sweat nearly caused her to rip it back off, when—

“Hello, May Parker.”

She jumped out of her skin. “He-hello?? How did you kn—”

“What can I assist you with this morning?”

May felt like an idiot, sitting there with her nephew’s mask on—her spider-kid _superhero_ nephew’s mask that was created by _billionaire Tony Stark_ —at 3:15 in the morning, talking to an AI Peter had affectionately named “Karen,” of all things, but here she was. This was her life now.

“Hi Karen, yeah. I need help keeping track of Peter. His phone sometimes dies when he’s out late at night, or he sometimes forgets to text or call to let me know what’s going on, and I can’t take it anymore. I need to know where he is so I’m not up worrying all night.”

“Understood, Mrs. Parker. If Peter fails to notify me to contact you, I can text your phone myself. What time is his curfew?”

May laughed. The absurdity of talking to an AI about parenting her super-kid wasn’t lost on her, but it was still _nice_ , somehow—she couldn’t talk about this stuff with anyone else.

“It was unofficially 11 before Spider-Man, but since he’s so hell-bent on saving the world, we agreed that midnight is the goal and he should let me know if he can’t be back by 1.”

“That sounds very reasonable, May. I will ensure that he or I will contact you if he is ever out past 1am. Is there anything else you require?”

May spotted a video camera icon in the left-hand corner of her view. She was tempted to ask what footage Peter collected with the suit, but quickly thought better of it. She trusted him, and he trusted her. And she wasn’t sure she _wanted_ to know the whole truth of what her boy got up to.

“I don’t think so, Karen, at least not right now.” She sighed. “I just… I just worry about him, you know? Like it’s hard to sit here and know he’s out there saving the world and what-not, and there’s nothing I can do to help, or to keep him _safe._ Can you—this is so weird, talking to a computer—can you just reassure me—is he okay out there? Does he…make good choices and all that?”

“Peter is young and inexperienced, but Mr. Stark’s technology has helped keep him safe.” Karen replied, the kindness in her tone both reassuring and slightly unsettling to May’s tech-inept mind. “He has also been much more careful since you discovered his secret.”

May’s heart warmed at that. “He has?”

“Yes. But I can add extra protocols to reassure you further, if you’d like. Would you like me to alert you when Peter acquires an injury?”

May startled. “I—what? How often does he get injured? I mean I’ve seen some bruises and cuts, and I know he got pretty seriously hurt Homecoming weekend, but—he’s not been hurt recently, has he?”

Karen projected a video in front of May’s vision. “Last Thursday he took a pretty nasty fall.” May watched the footage of Peter’s POV in horror: his left arm mis-aimed a web while swinging in the rain and he slammed into a fire escape before falling three stories. “I detected a hairline fracture in his left wrist, a minor concussion, and a sprained ligament in his left ankle, as well as several bruises.” The video replayed on a loop as she spoke, and May shut her eyes, feeling nauseous.

“Stop, stop it, _please_.” She begged the AI. “What the _hell_ , Karen, that was awful—don’t show me any more videos, I can’t watch that.” She shook her head. “Why didn’t he tell me about any of this?”

“Mr. Parker specifically requested that I keep the fall a secret.” Karen said apologetically.

“I’m gonna kill him.” May muttered under her breath.

“That was his fear.”

“ _Great,_ Karen. Thanks.”

She imagined Peter stumbling through his bedroom window with broken limbs and made her decision.

“You know what? Please _do_ inform me when he’s injured. God knows he doesn’t tell me this stuff himself, and I have a right to know.”

“Noted, Mrs. Parker. Anything else I can do for you?”

May nearly said no, nearly thanked Karen for her services and went to bed. But sitting and talking to this AI was oddly comforting, and the thought of Peter’s escapades had been keeping her up at night anyway.

“Karen—Tony Stark made you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you know a lot about superheroes?”

“Yes,” Karen answered, “I know everything about all superheroes, including the Avengers.”

May nodded. “Okay, then…can I ask you a question? Are…are all superheroes like this? Are they all infuriatingly self-sacrificing, and stubborn, and do they all insist that saving the world is more important than saving themselves?”

Karen did not answer immediately, and May felt like an idiot for asking such a loaded question to an AI whose capacity for emotional intelligence was still unclear.

“You know what,” she said, “forget I asked that. Just forget it, I—”

“May,” Karen interrupted kindly, softly. “Peter is okay.”

May took a shaky breath. “Right. I know that. I know he’s okay. But I just feel like he’s taking on too much, you know? He thinks he’s responsible for…for everything. It’s ridiculous, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I mean he’s just like—”

She cut herself off. She was talking to a computer who probably reported everything back to Tony Stark, and well—some things were sacred. “Karen” didn’t need to know that Peter was _just like Ben._

“Would you like to talk more about what’s troubling you, May?” Karen asked.

“No, Karen. But this was good, thank you. It was really nice to have somebody to talk to.”

“Of course. Sleep well.”

May removed the mask and exhaled. Conversing with an AI had made for one of the weirdest nights of her life, no question, but she’d _needed_ it. As absurd as it was, Karen knew what May’s friends couldn’t—her kid was a spider in spandex.

May would know where Peter was now, and she’d know when he was hurt, or running late, or unable to talk because he’s busy saving the world.

Peter believed it was his responsibility to help everybody. May knew it was her responsibility to help _him_.

And Karen was her new secret weapon in that mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
